


Bring the Drugs, I Could Bring My Pain

by DivinusQualia



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Consensual Sex, Drugged Sex, High Sex, High!Spirit, High!Stein, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, Inspired by Music, Joint, Late at Night, Love Confessions, Lowered/No Inhibitions, M/M, Madness, Marijuana, Moonlight, Noise Kink, Not Beta Read, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Smoking, Spirit is A Sweetheart, Stein is Still Crazy, Stein's Screw Kink, Strange Love, Their Love Is So, Voice Kink, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivinusQualia/pseuds/DivinusQualia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stein is forever composed. Clinical. Methodical. Precise. The words most chose to describe him are often found in medical journals and heavy textbooks, fitting for the brilliant professor and exceptional meister.</p><p>Stein's risky experiment backfires on him. Spirit learns to appreciate experiments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring the Drugs, I Could Bring My Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Mainly inspired by "Wicked Games", "Echoes of Silence", and "High for This" by The Weeknd. Honestly, I played "The World of The Weeknd" from Songza on repeat for a week to keep myself motivated. It's highly suggested as a soundtrack. Please leave comments and criticism. Thank you for reading! :)

Stein is forever composed. Clinical. Methodical. Precise. The words most chose to describe him are often found in medical journals and heavy textbooks, fitting for the brilliant professor and exceptional meister.  
"Spirit."  
The death scythe is pulled out of his thoughts by Stein's low voice. He offers a faintly smoking cigarette with his long, pale fingers and Spirit accepts. He takes a long drag in the dim light filtering through the laboratory's high windows and on his exhale, the smoke creeps towards the ceiling. He doesn't need to look over to know Stein's steady gray-green eyes are focused on him, and with anyone else perhaps they'd be focused in disbelief, or admiration, or if Spirit was ever lucky again, love. He closes his eyes to take a second drag. He knows the meister only focuses on his experiments. Stein shifts and Spirit only knows because Stein lets him, but disregards it. Another exhale sends more smoke adrift to the ceiling.   
"Spirit."  
The scythe slowly opens his eyes and sighs. The heavy weight of the moon seems to resting only on him when he turns to Stein, as the Meister's eyes are bright in the darkness.   
"What?" Spirit runs an errant hand through his red hair and watches the last of the smoke leave his lungs. He should really quit soon. Maka doesn't like him smoking so much. The next time he blinks, he opens his eyes to Stein's face over him, hidden in shadows, the taller man is deceptively strong, thin hand holding his wrists over his head.   
"Damn it." Spirit's too tired to put any fight into his words, doesn't bother to struggle. It always makes the experiments worse.   
"Spirit, you'll like this one." Stein's other hand disappears into his lab coat pocket and returns with a cigarette. No, a small carefully rolled joint. The scythe allows a chuckle to roll out of his mouth, he's already tired and the drug will make it worse. But it's almost an anesthetic and it's more than Stein has ever offered before scarring his skin.   
"How kind of you. But I can't smoke it with my hands tied." Spirit wiggles his fingertips in Stein's hold. The pressure on his wrists increase as Stein's smile stretches with his madness.   
"Let the kindness continue then. I'll do it for you." He holds the joint with his fore and middle fingers and reaches to a different pocket for a lighter. He flips the joint around and with a deft flick of his thumb, it's lit and he drops the lighter to the floor. The faint glow on the end of the joint draws Spirit's eye and Stein carefully raises it to his lips. He inhales with his eyes on his weapon and the embers flare and reflect in Spirit's eyes. Stein pulls the joint away and closes his eyes, the constant rise and fall of his wide shoulders stop as he relaxes. Spirit only knows the meister is still in control because his grip remains firm and unyielding. He waits for what seems an impossible amount of time for Stein to breath again and when his green eyes meet Spirit's he waits for the exhale. Instead, the meister leans forward and light glints off his glasses, uses his relatively free hand to nudge his weapon's chin up as he edges closer. With his thumb, he teases Spirit's bottom lip down, as his eyes slip shut, and the ash off the joint settles in the hollow of the weapon's collarbones. The softness of the kiss is what's unexpected at that point, even with the roughness of the professor's lips, but then he opens his mouth and breathes into his weapon, the heat of the smoke burning the redhead's throat as it forces it's way into his lungs and he gulps uselessly for air. His eyes spring open and he struggles in Stein's grasp as he tries to breath but the meister's eyes are amused over his as black spots grow in his vision. 

Just as Spirit accepts the end, oddly feeling like he knew Stein would be the one to murder him (just not like this, with the press of his lips), the meister backs away. A cloud of heavy smoke billows out when Spirit coughs, like something inside him has been set on fire, and fresh air floods his lungs and senses. His body arches as he sucks it all in and his chest heaves with the effort afterwards. Stein's eyes are coldly watching him, calculating and observing, gather data for further analysis later as he turns his screw and it's at odds with the warmth of his hand on Spirit's cheek or his easy weight on his body.   
"Are you satisfied?" Spirit spits out, narrowing his blue eyes. His meister laughs darkly.   
"I thought you could take more than that. After all we've been through..."  
"Careful, Stein. You almost sound sentimental." Spirit clenches his teeth and wishes he'd gone home sooner. Stein delicately withdraws his hand from the weapon's face and takes another drag of his joint.  
"Careful. When am I ever careful? Experiments are much more fun with a little... Spirit." With his eyes closed, the meister smirks and his weapon growls beneath him.   
"Stein-"   
"But you should be careful-very, very careful-to not upset me." The lit end of the joint grazes past Spirit's cheek and he flinches away.  
"And how do you propose I do that?"  
"I'm not quite certain. I suppose you'll have to experiment." The little light provided by the moon and the high window do nothing to dull the shine of Stein's hair or the glimmer of his eyes. Spirit is acutely aware of being teased as the grin above him grows.   
"Are you going to continue, then? Or I could find something better to do." Spirit's not sure when he went from terrified to interested but the smoke shot-gunned from Stein is already easing into his limbs. The meister doesn't respond, takes another long drag from the joint, and stops his breathing again. It's not as long this time, before he leans down and Spirit willingly opens his mouth. The smoke creeps into his mouth this time, easily, as he inhales with Stein's exhale. The last thread of smoke is followed by the meister's tongue and Spirit half moans. He can feel Stein pressing down onto him, and they roll the smoke through their mouths as the kiss deepens. Lights flash behind Spirit's closed lids as he runs out of air, his moan having wasted precious time. In the back of his head is his meister, a steady voice in control as Spirit drugs himself: Breath, Spirit. Breath. BREATH. Spirit tilts up into the kiss, eyes still closed as smoke curls out of his nose and into the darkness. Stein pulls away first, a string of saliva connects them and the tension tugs on Spirit's lip. Stein shifts his hand on the weapon's wrists to feel his pulse and pauses to commit it to memory.   
"Again." Stein's eyes flicker down when Spirit speaks. There are notes of desperation in his voice and it's just the edge the meister enjoys. He complies with another drag of the joint, his limbs hang heavy with the smoke and expectations in the room, the same way Spirit's eyelids do. The weapon senses his meister's breathing, the steady rhythm and matches it in the moments before Stein's finished exhaling into the cool laboratory air, reconsiders, shallows it out. Hitching every so often on the climax of Stein's inhale, that moment when he pauses and no air flows from his body creating the perfect vacuum of space to release the sound into. Stein's eyes glint when he realizes this, he eagerly takes another drag and holds it, almost as long as the first time, but when he bends to Spirit again, the weapon doesn't allow him to chase the smoke in. Instead, he is the surprised one when Spirit rushes to meet him, runs his tongue over the sharp edges of canines and flicks to beckon more smoke into his mouth. Spirit couples this attack with an arched back and rolls against his meister as he stores the smoke in his lungs. 

It takes a few minutes before Stein ends it, his breathing even but his normally clear eyes cloudy and dilated.   
"Very well done, Spirit." Stein smiles softly, like the smoke has refined all his edges, and Spirit eyes are fighting to stay focused on it.   
"Who needs to experiment, again?" The weapon asks, blowing a stream of smoke up into the meister's face. Stein's smile hardens and vanishes altogether as the joint is flipped again and stabbed into Spirit's collarbone. The weapon curves inward, trying to pull himself from the burn of the embers but Stein relentlessly holds it there and when he pulls way, there is a dark circle lined with ash on the redhead's pale skin. Spirit whimpers.   
"I said don't upset me." Stein's deadly serious and his weapon nods quickly, swallows nervously. The bob of his Adam's apple attracts his meister's gaze and the grip on his wrists loosen. "Here." Stein carelessly tosses the joint and Spirit scrambles to catch it with his sore wrists limply supporting his hands.   
"Stein?"  
"The experiment is over." Stein removes his glasses and slips them into a coat pocket as his silver hair swings to cover his eyes. He stands, one hand on his screw, and as he pushes away from the couch he stumbles. The movement and subsequent pause is almost unnoticeable, anyone else would have missed it, but Spirit's eyes narrow and he smirks.   
"Oh my god, you're high. You're high." He laughs slightly and sits up. How could he, of all people, have missed Stein's slipping control? "I wasn't the experiment, was I?" Stein had already recovered and was in the doorway but he stopped. It was awfully quiet now, and Spirit fills the time with a drag of the joint and casually blows the smoke in his direction. It doesn't get there, simply floats upward and twists through the thick air. Stein slowly turns around and his eyes are heavy lidded, unfocused, as they trail the smoke.   
"Come here." Spirit crooks a finger and like a thread joins it to Stein's chest, the meister moves. He falls into the couch, all long limbs and messy hair, the most uncoordinated he's ever been. Spirit hooks his leg over the meister's lap and pulls himself over, rests his forehead against the others. He sighs over Stein's lips and the professor's breath shudders back at him. The joint is still faintly burning, a bright spot in the dimness, and Spirit takes another drag.   
"You can't handle it. Why'd you get it? Where'd you see it?" He blows smoke into Stein's face again and the professor's gray-green eyes close.   
"I remembered it. From you. At the academy, when Maka's mother was angry at you and you came home with a boy. You sat across from me where I was finishing my work, smelled like smoke. And you kissed him." Stein's normally controlled voice cracks.   
"Jealous, are we?" Spirit smirks and his meister's hand drifts up his side and holds his shoulder.   
"Yes." The word is heavy and Stein's nails dig in, forcing Spirit to flinch. The grip loosens almost immediately and Stein sinks back, he's too high to care, and that's the only reason Spirit can get any indication of emotion out of him. He takes another drag and holds it before bending forward like Stein did before. Except Spirit leans with his body closer and his lips farther, tempts Stein to rise if he wants it and meet him. 

He waits there, even though Stein's eyes are closed, with the smoke burning his lungs and his hair falling to curtain them off from the world. He wonders if Stein has given up and fallen asleep, just as the meister's eyes flash open and his back comes off the couch. Spirit smiles then, in the brief second before he dips his head. Stein is warm and pliant under his hands, the smoke blowing straight through him and Spirit can feel it pushed back out on him through Stein's nose. Stein's usual decisive, even movements are gone as he fumbles for Spirit's hip and tangles a hand in his red hair. Stein moans. The noise is low and throaty, keening, and ends with a soft breath. It startles Spirit and he pulls away, eyes wide. Stein doesn't make noise. He tears the worst-best sounds from Spirit whenever the mood strikes him with a sharp smile and silence. Silence. And he moaned. Stein doesn't seem to realize the destruction he's done, his eyes still closed and breathing slightly heavy, fingers bruising Spirit's hip.   
"Stein." Spirit wiggles in his meister's fingers and the man smiles at Spirit. It's slightly crooked but endearing, like a child asking for friendship. The light is dimmer now, less filtering through the windows, but Spirit escapes Stein's grip and manages to dismantle his meister's stern exterior: his lab coat goes on a hook, his shoes are by the door. Stein falls backwards in the few minutes Spirit was away, and the weapon pushes the joint past his meister's lips. Automatically, he inhales. Spirit blindly drifts his fingers over Stein until they catch the hem of his shirt and pale skin peeks out. Stein sighs above him, producing a fountain of smoke, and when he hooks his fingers under and pulls, Stein's breath catches and his hips come off the couch. The scythe smirks a little as the shirt slips over Stein's torso until it's hitched under this arms and his stitched skin shimmers under a sheen of sweat. Spirit drags a flat tongue across the professors stomach and the younger man arches, shoulders off the bed with his head thrown back and the joint slips from his mouth, but the best part is the deep growl that resonates in the echo of the room. It ends with a whine and Spirit grins.  
"Very well done, Stein."   
"Thank you." The meister laughs like his madness has overcome him but his glazed eyes seem content to stare blankly at the ceiling. Spirit reaches for the hem of his own green shirt to pull it over his head, and it's only a few seconds before Stein's long fingers are fluttering over the surface of his heated skin and his dark laughter is breaking through the night. His hand rests above Spirit's heart, and the weapon's pulse jumps.   
"I used to want to cut your heart out. To find out how you could love everyone and everything so much." Stein's lips curl upward but his eyes don't match the smile.  
"That would defeat the purpose. I couldn't love anyone or anything at all." Spirit murmurs into the smokey air, his frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears.   
"That would be ideal. I wouldn't have to worry." Stein lifts his hand from Spirit's chest and reaches out to stroke his cheek.  
"Worry about what?" Spirit whispers.   
"Worry that you'd make me love you back." Stein grips Spirit's chin and pulls down until the weapon's mouth opens. "Worry that you'd love someone else." Stein releases him and blinks quickly, searches by his head for the joint. The abrupt shift leaves Spirit hanging over his meister as he fumbles and brings the joint to his lips. His exhale is shaky and the hot smoke burns Spirit's eyes but he refuses to roll away.   
"That's what you worry about?"  
"Spirit." Stein shifts beneath him, trying to prompt him to move, but Spirit snatches the joint away and settles further on the professor's lap. 

Spirit manages to pull smoke into his lungs four times before Stein unceremoniously ejects him from his lap with a swift turn. The joint flies from his hand and he glares at his meister from the side. Stein sits upright, rubbing at his eyes with his index and his thumb, and his shirt has fallen back down.   
"How kind of you." Spirit rolls his eyes. "You made me lose the joint, by the wa-"  
"Of course it's what I worry about." Stein twists to face him. "What else would I worry about?" The professor shakes his head as if to clear it, then quickly pulls his shirt over his head. "You are all I worry about."   
"Stein?" Spirit gives up his quest for the joint and sobers slightly as he watches Stein approach him. The other man drags himself over the couch as if the fabric is woven from shards of broken glass but maintains his trajectory. When he reaches Spirit's ankle, his eyes glow brightly in the room and he crawls between the redhead's legs. He pauses when his head is just level with Spirit's waist and his deft fingers unbutton the redhead's dress pants and the metal teeth of the zipper separating breaks through the smoke.   
"Stein?" Spirit gasps as his meister's slim fingers dip under the waistband of his briefs for a second, only to retreat and instead trace useless swirls into the skin of his hip. Spirit's dick is eagerly trying to present itself for attention and Stein basically coos. He tugs Spirit's pants down over his hips and blows his hot breath over the emerging erection, leans close enough to lick it through the fabric and pulls away just before Spirit's hips thrust off the couch.   
"Impatient." Stein chuckles but still quickly pulls the pants and briefs down to ankles. His movements are languid from the joint and his eyes are red from the smoke, but his screw is still jutting out of his head-it's still him-and Spirit rests his hand on it. The metal is cool in his sweaty palm and he strokes his thumb along the exposed spiral leading to Stein's mysterious brain. The meister is slowly teasing Spirit as he barely holds the weapon's hardening cock in his calloused hand.   
"Stein..." Spirit breathes. "Please..." His half formed prayers are answered when Stein carefully lowers his mouth around the head and moans like he's sampling an exquisite dessert. The vibrations from his mouth and the wet heat make Spirit's eyes flutter shut. They wound stay that way but he wills them to open, to watch Stein's pale, muscular body stitched together with bad intentions and madness shimmer with sweat in the almost darkness. Spirit can feel his meister licking at the slit in the head as his hands caress the shaft, the slight bobbing of his head through the screw in his hand. When Stein swirls his tongue around and sinks an inch farther with a hint of teeth threatening Spirit's delicate skin, the redhead can do nothing but bite his lip to suppress a moan and tighten his hand on the screw. His sweaty fingers pull on Stein's screw until it clicks and the professor shudders. The tremor runs along his back and through his mouth to Spirit, and the weapon finally lets his eyes roll back. The slow, lazy pace of Stein's mouth slowly causes Spirit's stomach to tighten and knot with anticipation and his fingers echo it, twisting in silver hair. Before Spirit's body gives in, Stein's mouth drops and suddenly his throat is open. When he swallows, Spirit can feel it and he pulls the silver strands in his fingers. Stein whimpers. First the moan, then the whimper, and now Stein is quickly proving the need for a gag-reflex wrong. His lips are closed around Spirit's cock, nose pressed to the baby soft skin of stomach and scratch of hair. His eyes are open though, latched to Spirit through the haze of smoke and sex, and they crinkle at the corners with a hint of a smile before they close and Stein focuses on swirling his tongue with his mouth full. It takes only a few more minutes of the new fast pace before Spirit is bucking his hips into Stein's face with a strangled apology interlaced with keening and groans. Stein sits up and smirks.   
"No need to apologize. And you're welcome." He wipes a stray stripe of cum from his cheek and curiously tastes it. Spirit can't help whining again. 

Stein shifts as if to leave and the scythe jumps to keep him close.   
"Don't you need to?"  
"I'll be fine. It's not a pressing issue at the moment." Stein's voice is cold but his eyes are still glazed. Spirit glances down to see the meister's pants are as well fitting as when he teaches without any indication of their interaction. It's more than slightly insulting.   
"I want to make it a pressing issue." Spirit pulls off his pants and lifts himself to sit so Stein is between his legs. He sits naked on the couch with the weak moonlight streaming in and imagines Stein realizing he's beautiful before taking him to his bedroom and fucking him. When the professor stare blankly instead, he resists to urge to roll his eyes and reaches for Stein's shoulders. With a gentle push, the meister falls back onto the cold floor but doesn't seem to mind. Spirit follows him to the ground, wincing when his bare knees hit the tile. Stein is solid underneath him and his chest rises slightly with each breath he takes. The weapon settles on his meister's lap and lays his nakedness over the other. Their close height leaves Spirit's lips just millimeters from Stein's and he can feel the slow rhythm of a heart just off beat with his.   
"Can I touch you?" Spirit's breath ghosts over Stein's lips and the professor nods once. Normally, Spirit reaches for Stein's hands, his hips, or aims for a kiss but instead his hand reaches for Stein's screw. The metal is cold and Spirit braces himself with one hand on Stein's torso to shift himself upwards. Stein is a corpse, deathly still and cool to the touch, but Spirit feels like he's overheating. He straddles his meister's hips and leans up so he hangs over the other. He uses one hand beside Stein's head to brace himself and releases the screw with the other to run his thin fingers through silver hair. Stein shudders slightly but otherwise he's unresponsive, his mouth a hard line clashing with his soft, blown irises. Spirit inhales deeply before he rolls his hips, his hand wandering back to the screw. He knows Stein could easily flip him away and flip him off, but it's an experiment. Stein would appreciate it. The meister is still under the influence of the joint but his dilated eyes are still calculating. Spirit inhales once more before committing to his plan. Nobody really notices the few inches between the screw and silver hair, but Spirit runs his thumb over the teeth leading into Stein's brain and the meister's green eyes flicker. Spirit licks his lips and slowly bends to kiss the screw. He leaves a faint line of saliva as he traces the edge of the screw and tries to ignore his pounding heart. Stein's hair smells like soap and the screw leave a tang in his mouth that remind him of blood after a fight. The meister's hands are quick to react, clamping onto Spirit's hips. The weapon sighs as he waits to be thrown off, Stein has always been in control and a single joint wouldn't change him. The removal never comes though, and after a few hushed breaths Spirit licks the screw again. This time, Stein gasps and his hips jerk, brushing his clothed interest against the weapon's naked form. 

Spirit wishes his could see the professor's face as he continues to sweep broad strokes over the screw but he can still feel Stein unravelling with pleasure as his breathing shallows out and his frenzied hands run over Spirit's body. The redhead dips his tongue into the notch and Stein writhes beneath him with a ragged moan. Spirit's breathing is labored as he bites the screw between this teeth and twists. Stein's body bucks and his back arches into Spirit with a tortured sob, his chest and stomach spasm as he struggles to suck in quick shallow breaths. Spirit pulls away from the screw and settles his head into the crook of Stein's svelte neck where a tear from the meister drips onto his cheek. It isn't as cool as he expects, and rolls thickly towards his mouth where is blooms into a harsh metallic flavor and Spirit bolts upright. Stein has his lower lip caught between his teeth and blood beads around the puncture before it grows enough to join the stream dying his cheek red.   
"Stein!"   
"Don't stop." Stein grinds out, blood pooling on his tongue.   
"Ste-"  
"Don't." Stein tightens his grip on Spirit and he can feel the unstable, uncontrolled strength humming over his skin. Spirit gapes soundlessly and searches his meister's eyes for any sign of rationality. The eerie blankness he finds prompts an impulsive press of lips. Stein opens easily, licking into his mouth with savage greed and spreading the heady taste of blood. When Spirit pulls away, the metal was almost sweet on his tongue and he immediately moves back to the screw. A curious swipe of his tongue leaves a streak of red over the screw, Stein nips at his chest with his bloody mouth and he can feel the viscous liquid marking him for slaughter. With another sudden twist the screw clicks into another setting and Stein wails, straining against Spirit for release. Spirit hushes his meister before reaching for the shaft of the screw again. He runs his mouth around it and flicks it into another setting as he grinds into Stein's lap until the professor pants. The labored breaths and irregular moans from Stein are so uncharacteristic, Spirit is uncharacteristically quiet so he can memorize them. He slips down to kiss Stein's cheek and the meister scrambles for his lips, the blood fading from his taste but the salt of stray tears emerging. Stein's hands are clutching at Spirit's shoulder and his hip as he presses against his weapon and the redhead's fingers click the screw into a final position. Stein tears himself away with a wanton mewl and his hips stutter to a stop. Spirit opens his eyes to see the usual void of Stein's face filled with emotion, his silver hair askew, his lips slightly parted in awestruck euphoria and his eyes are blissfully lazy, the gray-green clear without the shade of calculations. Spirit carefully releases the sticky, red tinged screw and gently strokes Stein's cheek. The meister peacefully lays silent until the light of the moon has shifted across the floor leaving them in the darkness. Spirit had fallen half asleep, curled over Stein's stitches, but rouses when he shifts. The meister delicately slips from under Spirit and the weapon rolls into his back. 

The kiss is sudden, Stein's head dropping to Spirit's navel and his silver hair tickling his stomach. Another is expected, soft on his chest and accompanied by a rough tongue swirled around Spirit's quickly hardening nipple. The third is hesitant, preludes by Stein's hot breath blowing on Spirit's cheek before trembling lips finally make contact. It's the sheer terror that Spirit feels in the finality of the moment that prompts him to take his chance. Stein is already becoming self-conscious again and his body is quickly pulling away but Spirit latches onto him. Wraps the other man in his long arms and pulls him back.   
"Spirit." The meister's sobriety is slowly returning if his hollow, emotionless voice is right.   
"I worry about you." Spirit breathes. He can't keep his eyes open, he was never very good at staying awake after smoking and especially bad at it after sex, but he can't fall asleep now. "I worry if you've been eating enough. If you've got enough social contact. If you've been exercising. If you've been happy recently."  
"You make me sound like Maka."  
"I worry about your experiments. Your stitches and your cuts. I wonder if you get lonely. And I worry if you still cry about it."  
"There's nothing to worry about." Stein yanks himself free and Spirit isn't too surprised. His eyes are already slipping shut but he reaches out for his meister.   
"But I do. Worry. I love you." Spirit mumbles.   
"Stop." Stein stalks away, his tall frame pausing in the doorway.   
"I can't. I love you." Spirit gives up on holding his eyes open and settles for settling into the warm space Stein left behind. The joint has long since compromised his alertness and the lazy buzz from the sex prompts him to sleep. Stein is still stalled in the doorway when Spirit finally eases into his dreams and the meister huffs under his breath before he fetches a blanket to throw over the naked redhead.   
"Idiots don't know what love is." Stein says as he smooths the blanket over his far away weapon. He takes care to step out of the doorframe and sink against the outside wall before he sighs though. His eyes close slowly. "I supposed that's why I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> So. I am not writing for the 5 other things I have to write for... So I did this instead. I am a professional procrastinator. I am trying to get help. :P I'll get back into writing soon! As usual, UNBETA'D so bear with my stupidity.


End file.
